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“Sure.” She shrugs. “Why not? I can’t believe I slept through dinner. I woke up staaaaarving.”
“How do you feel?”
She shrugs again, then winces. “Sore. Kinda achy. Still tired.” She cocks her head. “Are you staying home with me?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
Serena approaches Libby with an inquisitive head tilt. “Do you want me to heat up more spaghetti?”
“No, I’m good.” Libby pushes her bowl away and yawns. “I might go back to bed.”
We work out her meds and I help her upstairs with a little less protesting than last night.
When I return downstairs, Serena’s nursing Lincoln at the dining room table.
“You need anything?” I ask.
“I’m good.”
I set my kettle on the stove and prepare two cups of tea. Screw it, I’m going to have spaghetti for breakfast too. Why not?
“You two are making me feel really good about my cooking,” Serena says with a soft laugh.
“It’s pretty fantastic.” I smile and punch the microwave buttons. “How is Gray going to feel without you home?”
“He’s a pretty resourceful man.” A fond smile curves her lips.
“Still pretty smitten with Murder Daddy, huh?” I tease.
She lets out an almost girlish giggle, jostling Lincoln who vocalizes a few notes of displeasure at being disturbed.
“You could say that,” she says.
After we’ve eaten, Serena pushes my bowl aside and reaches for my hand.
“Uh, what’s on your mind?” I ask, glancing at our linked hands. “You seem sort of serious.”
“Well, I know you’ve got a lot going on,” Serena says, hesitation wobbling in her voice. “But are you still up for godmother duties?” she asks.
“Oh my God, yes! Of course I am.” Anything to take my mind off of what a disaster my life’s turned into. “I’d love to have something positive to focus on.”
She blows out a relieved breath. “Oh good. Thank you. I found the most welcoming nondenominational church.”
I scrunch my eyebrows down. “Those words don’t really go together.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “It’s a nice place.”
“Okay, okay.” I hold up my hands. “I trust you.”
“Hold onto that thought.” She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t be mad. But Dex is still Lincoln’s godfather. Is that a—”
“Wait, what?” It takes a few seconds for the information to sink in. How did we never talk about that?
“We asked him the same time we asked you.”
“Wow. Okay.” I sit back and think about it. “Does he know about me?”
“I guess so?” She shrugs and checks her phone.
“We’re both adults. It’ll be fine.” Even if Dex is mad at me, I doubt he’d do anything to ruin the day for Grayson. No, a man like Dex will take his duty to Lincoln seriously. He won’t let our breakup interfere.
And if nothing else, at least I’ll get to spend some time around him. See him again. Drool over him.
Apologize to him.
“Emily?” Serena’s worried tone cancels the stalkerish path my mind was wandering toward. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yes…” I push more enthusiasm into my voice. “Yes, of course. What do I have to do?”
“Not too much.”
That’s not exactly helpful, but I assume I have some time to figure it out.
The doorbell chimes and we both turn toward the living room.
“Is that Grayson?” I ask.
She glances at her phone. “No. He stopped at the clubhouse first.”
I hurry to the front door and peek outside. A gangly teenage boy with hair flopping over his left eye stands on our porch, shifting from foot to foot.
One of Libby’s friends? Or a Boy Scout selling popcorn?
I open the door. “Hi. Can I help you?”
“Uh, hi. Emily, right?” he asks. “I’m Troy. Libby’s friend.”
“Yes! You’ve been helping her with math, right?” I unlock the screen door and push it open. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” He steps inside, his nervous gaze darting all around. “Is Libby home?”
“She’s resting.”
“Well, I, uh, I picked up her assignments. Mr. Forbes said he’d email her. And I have notes I can share with her.”
I blink rapidly. Stopping by the school had been on my list of things to do. “Thank you so much. That’s…that’s such a big help. I appreciate it.”
He grins like a cute, freckled puppy. “Oh! Good. Yeah. It’s so…well, everyone’s worried about her. And Mackenzie and Linda too, obviously,” he adds quickly.
“Em?” Serena calls out. “What do you want for dinner? I can run to the store, or we can have something delivered—oh, hi there.”
Troy’s eyes widen, his gaze focusing over my shoulder. I turn. Serena’s standing behind me with a smile and raised eyebrow.
“This is Libby’s friend Troy,” I introduce. “Troy, this is my friend Serena.”
“Hey, Troy.” Serena points to the stairs, then glances at me. “Do you want me to check on her?”
I’m torn. Libby would probably like to see Troy. But she also needs to rest. And on second thought, she won’t want to see him when she’s sleepy-eyed and has bedhead.
Serena seems to sense my indecision. “I can tiptoe up there and see if she’s awake, if you want.”
